


the sea at in-between

by sodas



Category: Neon Genesis Evangelion
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-02
Updated: 2013-08-02
Packaged: 2017-12-22 04:40:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/909022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sodas/pseuds/sodas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Until next time," Kaworu says, and the whole world floods.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the sea at in-between

**Author's Note:**

> writer's block! i'm at a loss! so, this is an exercise in prose -- for which i have likely sacrificed coherence...

_This time, I will, at least, make you happy._

— 

The time they spend at the seaside feels like a stasis. Shinji can hardly believe that the waves are moving for how still the witching hour seems, but he stands in the sand under a sky of bloodless colors — heavy violets, the darkest blue — and the baby waves with their bubbly crowns roll up to his ankles.

Kaworu is close by, barely dressed and sodden, like he's just tumbled out of the sea himself. He's marveling at some clams. They're lively in the moon-cool sand, jetting their little streams into the open air. Shinji's never seen anybody look at clams this way before. Come to think of it, he's never seen a shoreline like this in the first place. The realization is jarring, and the seawater feels too cold. "Kaworu-kun—"

Kaworu looks up, and his eyes are the only red in the night. He doesn't rise from his crouch, but Shinji still feels comparatively small: he doesn't know anything, and the beach is too wide. The red in Kaworu's eyes is enthralled and tired, and very knowing. He seems more unlike a child now than he ever has before. It frightens Shinji. It makes him fear he's been left behind. Kaworu smiles at him.

"The tide is coming in," he says. The sea wind makes his voice thinner. He stands up properly, and against the dark shapes far in the background, soapstone cliffs and slick tide pools, he is long and white and sharp, like a knife.

"What?" Shinji asks, dazed, distracted and alarmed by the sand on Kaworu's thighs. It looks rough, and he wants to wash it off.

"The tide." When Kaworu steps toward Shinji, his footprints fill with water. "Less than an hour, now. The tide will come in, and you should get to higher ground."

"An hour? What's going to happen? Where do I go?" Shinji is grasping, he realizes, and Kaworu's bony shoulders are slippery underneath his hands. The beach feels too big. His heart feels too urgent. "Kaworu-kun, why are we here?"

"Higher ground, Shinji-kun," Kaworu says, and sweeps in to kiss Shinji's face. Shinji's hands are fists now, and he hates it, because his eyes are stinging from the saltwater in Kaworu's hair. He can taste the depth of the ocean. "When the tide has come in, the tide will go out, and also..."

It occurs to Shinji that Kaworu has kissed him before and that he's tasted the sea like this before. Perhaps this shoreline _is_ familiar, and it's just been ages. Perhaps this boy is familiar, and has just been timeless. Shinji shakes his head. His eyes are a panicked blue, unlike the mellow midnight hue above. "You're saying you'll also go, aren't you? Why? What does the tide have to do with _anything?_ "

Kaworu kisses him again. He moves like he has countless hours, and not just one. "It's a current," he explains, without explaining anything. "And a current goes on and on."

"But why?" Shinji's voice is cracking, and the tears on his face are hotter than the water at his feet. "Why don't you come with me to higher ground? What does that even _mean?_ I don't understand what you're saying, Kaworu-kun, so please..."

With wet fingers, colored like foam and chilled by the hour, Kaworu touches Shinji's face and thumbs underneath his eyes. He smiles while he smears Shinji's tears, and it's the most faraway smile that Shinji's ever seen. "It's because you keep filling up the sea," Kaworu chides gently. "There is no current without the sea. Once it dries up, I'll stay with you. Just a little longer, Shinji-kun." The water rushes up to swirl around their knees. "A little longer, all right?"

"But you've said that before," Shinji cries, realizing only then that it's true. This might be the hundredth tide, the hundredth salty midnight. The sea is just too big. "Come with me to higher ground," he pleads, crying as the tide grows higher. "This time, just this time, don't go out into the water." But Kaworu lets go of him, and is awash, and the red of his eyes is overcome by the ink of the nighttime sea.

"Until next time," Kaworu says, and the whole world floods, and even the clams drown; and Kaworu is riding a current deep and far away, because Shinji cannot stop crying.

— 

At a red sunset, under a red stretch of sky, Shinji meets a boy who talks to him about destiny. Vaguely, his eyes burn. It feels like saltwater.


End file.
